DISGRACELAND - Juice WRLD: Percocets, Lucid Dreams and a Whole Lotta Lean

Episode Date: April 19, 2022

The loss of emo-rap trailblazer Juice WRLD is one of the most sudden, tragic, and graphic celebrity deaths in recent memory. His adolescence experimenting with bold beats, prescription pills, and lean set him up to become Gen Z’s new spokesperson. His music helped hit the reset button on popular music, transforming a once-bubbly genre into an all-consuming wormhole of depression, tension, and heartache. But his music earned more than just a global audience — it also drew the attention of the FBI, a force that was very present during Juice WRLD’s final days. To see the complete list of contributors, visit disgracelandpod.com To listen to Disgraceland ad free and get access to a monthly exclusive episode, weekly bonus content and more, become a Disgraceland All Access member at disgracelandpod.com/membership. Sign up for our newsletter and get the inside dirt on events, merch and other awesomeness - GET THE NEWSLETTER Follow Jake and DISGRACELAND: Instagram YouTube X (formerly Twitter)  Facebook Fan Group TikTokSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is exactly right. Double Elvis. When a group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist, they take matters into their own hands. I vowed. I will be his last target. He is not going to get away with this. He's going to get what he deserves. We always say that trust your girlfriends. Listen to the girlfriends.

Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When like young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. My first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in. Do that.

David O'Yellowo. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Dennis Leary, Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things, Tana Monsu, Camilla Morone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Movies can make you feel, make you dream. Sometimes they even make you appreciate architecture. Is there anybody who's been hotter in a doorway than Elizabeth Taylor? That's the kind of analysis you'll find every week on Dear Movies I Love You, the new podcast from the Exactly Right Network. Every Tuesday, we break down the films we're crushing on, from blockbusters to deep cuts. Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Disgrace Land is a production of Double Elvis.

The stories about Juice World are insane. He started popping prescription pills and experimenting with lean, a toxic combination of coughs, syrup, soda, and candy in the sixth grade. His career caught the eye of the FBI when he was just 20 years old. His passing is one of the most sudden, tragic, and graphic celebrity deaths in recent memory. And when Juice World died, he left a vault of 2,000 songs behind, each a new entry in the then-burgeoning genre of emo rap. His music helped hit the reset button on popular music, transforming a once-bubble

genre into an all-consuming wormhole of depression, tension, and heartache. But even when it was melancholy, Juice World made great music. Unlike that loop I played for you at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my Melotron called Reggae All Day, MK, K, One. I played you that loop, because I can't afford the rights to Nice for What by Drake. And why would I play you that specific slice of Snappin'Fabo cheese could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on May 4, 2018, and that was the day that Juice World re-released his moody magnum opus lucid dreams,

establishing himself as Gen Z's new spokesperson. A spokesperson whose star power would burn bright, but ultimately be snuffed out far too soon. soon. On this episode, a whole lot of lean, prescription pills, the ever-watching eyes of the FBI, and the tragic death of Juice World. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is disgrace land. The airfield at the Chicago Midway National Airport was quiet on the morning of December 8th, 2019. Winter winds howled. Red-eye flights coasted in past midnight. Descented. in the frigid December air.

The stillness made it easy for the feds to spot Juice World's jet when it arrived. Alongside members of the Chicago Police Force, federal agents were biting their time at the gate. The rapper, born Jared Anthony Higgins, would be there with his entourage any minute now, returning to Illinois for a belated 21st birthday celebration in his home city. Key word, celebration. He was here to party. and certainly he had brought some party with him from Los Angeles. That's what the feds were hoping at least.

Past brushes with Juice World at various airports had raised serious suspicions about the young rapper, and they expected him to be transporting illegal drugs that morning. K-9 shifted around eagerly as authorities watched Juice World's private jet pull up to the gate. Before Juice World and his entourage could even deplane, A cop and his furry best friend were scouring the cabin. Almost immediately, the canine gave the affirmative. That was all the authorities needed to start ripping open suitcases.

As Juice World and his crew stepped onto the terminal, the feds lasered in on the baggage cart. They tore bags from it, unzipped pockets, dumped out compartments, rifled through wardrobes. It didn't take long before they found what they were looking for. 41 vacuum-sealed bags of marijuana, 70 pounds total. But there was more. Six bottles of prescription-strength coating cough syrup of 40-caliber pistol,

two-nine millimeters plus a high-capacity ammunition magazine and metal-piercing bullets to boot. Jackpot. The cops poured over their wealth of contraband. A late-night stakeout had been a success. But while the police were busy tallying the contraband, something far more urgent was going down that would demand their immediate attention. Call an ambulance! I say call a fucking ambulance!

Juice World's girlfriend was in hysterics. In a nearby hallway at the terminal, Juice World convulsed on the cold tile floor. His body had started to seize minutes earlier and wasn't showing any signs of stopping. His arms jerked one way, legs jerked another. The whites of his eyes went belly up. His blonde-tipped dreads bounced around as his head lulled to and fro. With each jagged movement, blood oozed from between his lips. And no matter how much his girlfriend screamed and shook his limp body,

Juice World wasn't responding. Someone claimed a stretcher was on the way, supposedly some Narcan, too. But the light in Juice World's universe had already started to fade. It looked like candy. It smelled like candy. It was literally made with candy. So why did the cup of lean in his hand repulse juice world, aka Jared? Perhaps his 12-year-old palate wasn't refined enough yet.

He lifted the glass to his face and took another whiff. He knew he had to drink it. This had been his idea, after all. One of his schoolmates egged him on as they crouched behind a fly-covered dumpster in their school's parking lot. Enough already. Drink it. But you never been sick before? Sicker than all you, motherfucker. as Jared said, before downing the cup in one swig.

He felt the drink slog down his throat, and then he wiped the remaining purple goo from his lips. It tasted as advertised, just like what you'd expect from a tangy mixture of prescription cough syrup, soda, and hard candy, like robituss and fuck the jolly rancher. Jared set the cup down wordlessly, chest puffed out with pre-teen machismo,

as it to say there. As his friends poured out more of the purple potion, a share amongst themselves, Jared rested his back against the rusty dumpster, waiting, anticipating his body to go slack at any moment, just like the songs described, or at least that's how he remembered them. Every rap song Jared heard he had to commit to memory because hip-hop wasn't hip in the Higgins household. In fact, it was flat-out band. Classic rock was cool and gospel, absolutely, but his single, strict Christian mother, didn't tolerate. tolerate the vulgar language he heard in rap.

All those swears and lewd references, condoning bad behavior. Bad behavior, like drinking, lean. Everything Jared learned about the world of hip-hop, he had to learn away from home. His cousins were his main teachers, stealing him away to sneak in secret listening sessions. Meek Mill, Cameron, Lil Wayne, Cassidy, Jeasy, Goosey Mae, Chief Keith. These rappers were all part of Juice World's hush-hush education,

When his cousins hit play, Jared would hang on every bar, study their flow, memorize as much as he could to keep it fresh for later. Back at home, he'd rap to himself, mumbling under his breath. But when he couldn't remember the lyrics, he'd fill in his own on the spot, and half the time they were better than the real verse anyways. His most recent discovery was a rapper named Future. Future rapped a lot about Lean. A lot.

He rapped about popping purse. baskets too. That's what inspired Jared to seek it out that afternoon after school in the sixth grade. You guys like future? he asked, still awaiting the high. You mean odd future? The group? One friend answered. What? No, future, man. But the suggestion moved him to Google Odd Future too. He found a level of talent in darkness he hadn't been prepared for in the quirky up-and-coming rap collective from Los Angeles. Their morbid motto spelled out their attitude. Odd future wolf gang killed them all. That shit was downright eerie. A rapper named Tyler the Creator seemed to be one of the ringleaders of the group. A menace of an MC. He rapped about slitting his wrists, made skits

out of harassing a therapist, called himself Satan's son. He harnessed the dreadful depths of depression unlike anyone Jared had ever heard before. Tyler the Creator did it better than and even the emo Jared liked, bless the fall, Blackvale Brides escaped the fate. They pierced, but they couldn't touch Tyler. Tyler spoke to Juice World on an otherworldly level, on an underworldly level. His adolescent angst had a home in odd future. But there was something more than angst slinking around under Juice World's skin, a restlessness coursing through his veins at all hours.

He didn't have a name for the feeling. Was this anxiety? Juice World, then Jared, just 12 years old, he didn't have that kind of mental health vocabulary yet. His body was calling out for something, but he couldn't tell what. Cigarettes, maybe, lean, maybe. What he did know is it sure as hell wasn't calling for the ADD medication his doctor insisted on prescribing him. That was a drug he had no interest in. Every morning his routine was the same.

He arrived at school at the ass crack of dawn, dropped off off of the same. hours early by his mother, who then endured a grueling drive to her job in Indiana across state lines. He'd make his way to the desolate cafeteria, open his lunchbox, slurp down his cereal, find his ADD medication carefully folded in a napkin, swallow it, bask in 15 minutes of social euphoria, and then nothing. A zombie for the rest of the day. Irritable, unable to eat, totally vacant. And this was supposed to help him with school? Jared may have been 12, but he already saw the prescribed drugs for what they were. Bullshit.

Didn't doctors know a bored kid when they saw one? He didn't need to be on ADD medication. He needed the space to pursue what interested him. To pursue music. Specifically to pursue rapping. The very thing he couldn't do at home. So he changed his routine. He still started every morning with his breakfast at school.

But when it came time to take him. the pill carefully tucked into his lunchbox, he tossed it in with this pile of trash next to his orange peel and empty carton of milk. It wasn't helping him with school. Besides, if he needed to medicate himself, he had his own means now. He could rap about it just as well as anyone else. And he didn't need a pill to focus on that. There's two golden rules that any man should live by. Rule one, never mess with a country girl. You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes. And rule two, never mess with her friends either.

We always say that, trust your girlfriends. I'm Anna Sinfield, and in this new season of the girlfriends, Oh my God, this is the same man. A group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist. I felt like I got hit by a truck. I thought, how could this happen to me? The cops didn't seem to care. So they take matters into their own hands.

I said, oh, hell no. I vowed I will be his last target. He's going to get what he deserves. Listen to the girlfriends. Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler,

we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When, like, young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. And my first thing is always, Can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in. Do that. Dennis Leary.

I wake up and I'm hitting him in the head with a water bomb. And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance. Like he's about to attack me. Like making karate noises. And his entire the Kardashian family over there, everybody's going, and the air marshal is trying to grab my arms and screaming. And I immediately know that I've been sleepwalking. David O'Yellow.

I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Guy Branham. So anyway, Nicole Kidman broke up with Keith Durbin. Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to wear, not like a life she was going to lead. Oh, interesting. I like that. Did you practice that on your way over? Gaten Madarazzo from Stranger Things.

Tena, Monsu. Camilla Marone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,

or wherever you get your podcasts. Remember when you'd walk into your local video rental place and there were always those two employees behind the counter arguing about movies? Well, that's us.

I'm Millie de Cherico. And I'm Casey O'Brien. And now we're arguing about movies on our podcast, Dear Movies I Love You, from the Exactly Right Network. Can I say something about the Criterion Clause. Go ahead, dude.

They're letting too many people in there. Okay, that's another film, Grape I got two. Sadly, that rental place doesn't exist anymore. It's probably a store that sells running shoes. Or an ice cream shop with an extra pee and an E at the end. So consider us your slacker movie clerks

and podcast form. I would like to establish a timeline of the moment you figured out who Channing Tatum was. Every Tuesday, we dig into the movies. We can't stop obsessing. over from hidden gems to big screen favorites. New episodes drop every week on the exactly right network. Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your

podcasts. Juice World squinted as he held the bright orange pill up to the sunlight gleaming in through the tour bus window. Colors almost matched. He mused to himself as he toyed with the tablet and his fingers, running his thumb over the raised Tesla logo on the small pill. He didn't even remember who had given it to him at this point. He just knew he had been saving this particular trip for a special occasion. And today, on the upteenth stop of his North American tour, it felt like the right time for a little boost, or rather a big boost. Tesla pills contained enough ecstasy for four people, enough ecstasy to ride a unicorn and taste the rainbow. He had plucked the pill from his collection of percassettes, which was now a daily ritual.

for him, washed down with however much lean it took to cleanse himself from the anxiety of the day. But today, called for something extra special. As he stood up to pour himself a glass of water in the sad, cramped excuse of a bathroom, the tour bus's front wheel dipped into a cavernous pothole. The cabin rattled, and Juice World lost his footing and fumbled with the pill before the pill left from his hands and across the bus. He watched it slide. under a nearby seat. Juice World lunged, but he wasn't quick enough. His girlfriend, Alexia, had fished it off the floor before he could. She held it between her neatly manicured fingers like a piece of trash. Her brows furrowed into a threatening V as she flicked the pill back at him.

She asked her if he wanted to turn up just like Little Peep, dead, OD'd and young. The exchange over the pill made Juice World's thoughts hang on Little Peep. who was indeed found unconscious on his tour bus, barely a year earlier. And yes, another accidental overdose. Juice World couldn't even believe that was something he had to worry about now. Couldn't believe that a crummy Soundcloud account had landed him here halfway between home and the West Coast at 19 years old, with a label-like Interscope footing the bill. That this wasn't some kind of lucid dream. This was all very real. It started with just a couple clicks, in 2015. Juice World, then Jared, at age 16 years old, did what any other broke teen musician

did. He didn't mail a mixtape to a record label. He didn't download a list of ANR folks and start sending pleading form emails either. Instead, he did the 2010s thing. He downloaded some free beats from YouTube and created a SoundCloud account, his bleeding harp bars, and they did the rest. He called himself Juice the Kid, an homage to Tupac in the 1992 crime thriller, Juice. They shared that same juice box fade haircut, but that was about all Jared shared with the 90s hip-hop icon. His style was on another level entirely. The pulse of drill music was fresh in his mind. That heavy, nihilistic sound simmering on the streets of Chicago had been front and center in his city since 2010, championed by rappers like Lil Bibi, Chief Keefe, and Lil Durk.

Their verses were blunt, straightforward like a slap in the face, hard enough to knock the lean right off your lips. Its harsh quality reminded him of odd future. It reminded him of emo, too. So Jared, with no game plan in mind, subconsciously fused both genres. His music evoked mood swings, he draped his melancholy over samples of sting and yellow card, and when he rapped, his voice wilted, a jarring contrast to his bass-heavy beats. But above all, Jared was just honest. He was one struggling young adult speaking to a generation with the same soul-sucking screen addictions and mental health afflictions, crushed under the weight of their parents' political and personal debts. The ties of popular music were shifting.

The days of sugary songs about spilling drinks in the club were circling the drain. The escape of Vapid Pop had vanished. Gen Z's reality had crushed it. Climate change was closing in. Summers were a bummer. Nothing filled the void. Instead, music contributed to the void. The unifying theme behind popular music was that it ached, it cried, it bled,

called out from a place of isolation. Hurt music for hurt people. And Jared was leading the trend from behind a SoundCloud account, and for a while, things were quiet. Then, seemingly overnight, things would never be quiet again for Jared. By 2017, Chicago had taken notice of its new Wobie Gone Wonderkin, specifically Lil Bibi and his artistic partner G. Money had taken notice. Jared's song, Lucid Dreams, uploaded in June of 2017, had caught the attention of the attention of of the rapper producer pair, who were currently toying with the idea of starting a joint record label in their shared hometown of Chicago. They would call the label, Grade A Productions, and Jared

would be one of the first artists on the roster. When they heard the Technicolor tearjerker that was Lucid Dreams, it was obvious their star client was already sulking around on their home turf. Bibby and G. Money started making calls. Jarrett's whirl grew louder. They hooked come up with videographer and director Cole Bennett, who worked behind the lens for his music video all girls are the same, and that's set the bait. Then, Grade A Productions called up Def Jam. Interscope got hit too, and a bidding war broke out. Convenient. Jared, now using the moniker full-on, Juice World, to match his Twitter handle, watched it all unfold faster than one of his freestyles. His hype grew to a deafening din. In March of 2000,

Interscope claimed victory in Juice World joined the ranks of Kendrick Lamar, Dr. Dre, schoolboy Q, the rolling fucking stones, and even the artists whose plaintiff plucking gave Jukeworld the harmonic basis for lucid dreams, Sting. He was now an Interscope artist. When Juice World signed his name along the dotted line, he had only had one live performance to his name, a low-key affair at a local rec center, hosted as a party for one of his fellow homewood flossmore high school students. He pocketed $100 for the gig. Now, he had a cool $3 million in his bank account. Juice World cashed out a quartermill and bought himself a jewel-encrusted

watch. Always a smart decision. That was the only thing that changed. He still preferred the studio to the club, still picked nights with his PlayStation over getting plastered at parties. More money arrived when the royalties for Lucid Dreams started pouring in. And under the guidance of both grade A and Interscope, he had re-released that same melancholy magnum opus in May, and this time around it peaked at number two on the Billboard Hot 100. The song may have been labeled as new to the general population, but his sentiments were as old as Juice World's musical aspirations. Specifically, the line about taking prescription pills to feel A-OK.

The heartbreak holding lucid dreams together had long since faded, but the anxiety attached to it couldn't have been fresher. In fact, it was compounding, trendy, alive. Most musicians only ever get to pick two of these adjectives at a time. Juggling all three had proved fatal to other rappers of his generation. Little Peep, XXX, Tentacion, Mac Miller, all in their 20s, all in style, all now asleep in their graves. Three painful lessons learned the hard way.

Juice World wasn't about to be the fourth. But the more successes poured in, the more the pattern occupied his mind. The reintroduction of lucid dreams wet the world's appetite for his debut full-length album Goodbye and Good Riddance. Immediately, Interscope put him on the road for a headlining tour. And shit, he hadn't even toured in support of anyone yet, but he was up to the challenge. So long as his body was well medicated. In 2018, Juice World's percocet habit had grown to multiple pills a day. much to the displeasure of Alexia.

She tried to keep him in check when she could, but many days it felt like a losing battle. It was her versus Juice World's body. Hell, it was Juice World's brain versus his own body, as long as it called out, Juice World would cater to its cries. But she had one secret weapon that worked in her favor, one way to remind him of what was at stake.

Shortly after the release of Goodbye and Good Ridance, Juice World recorded an EP called Too Soon, a ghostly tribute to the SoundCloud rappers who had fallen in front of his eyes, in front of the world's eyes. Their deaths had been so public that they felt inhumane. They were indecent as they were unnecessary, and that was the fate of legends. That was exactly why Juice World didn't want to be one.

The thought of the 27 Club made him chuckle. The greats of his generation didn't even make it to 21. Getting Juice World to recall Lil Peep's fate was all Alexia had to do to reopen that wound. Besides, Juice World had to hang on. He had a collaboration in the works with Future. Future. The rapper who seemingly set Juice World down this very path was now interested in sharing the studio. It seemed like the internet held only promises for Juice World.

First, the viral success of his SoundCloud account. Then linking up with Future over an exchange on Twitter over. his album, Beast Mode 2. They were working on a single together first, and then an entire tape. The idea tickled him. This was success to him. Not the charts, not the streams, not the tour, no. A tape with his hero was the real win. Juice World slipped the orange tablet back into his stash and conceded. Alexi was right. A Tesla pill was too much. For today. We'll be right back after this Word, word, word. There's two golden rules that any man should live by.

Rule one, never mess with a country girl. You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes. And rule two, never mess with her friends either. We always say that trust your girlfriends. I'm Anna Sinfield, and in this new season of the girlfriends... Oh my God, this is the same man. A group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist. I felt like I got hit by a truck.

I thought, how could this happen to me? The cops didn't seem to care. So they take matters into their own hands. I said, oh, hell no. I vowed. I will be his last target. He's going to get what he deserves. Listen to the girlfriends. Trust me, babe.

On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast. This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests, like Amelia Cleggie. When, like, young people come up to me and they want to be an act or whatever. And my first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in. Do that. Dennis Leary.

I wake up and I'm hitting him in the head with a water bomb. And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance. Like he's about to attack me. Like, making karate noises. And his entire the Kardashian family over there, everybody's going. And the end of the end. Air Mars is trying to grab my arms and screaming. I immediately know that I've been at sleepwalking.

David O'Yellowo. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Guy Branham. So anyway, Nicole Kidman broke up with Keith Thurban. Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to wear, not like a life she was going to lead. Oh, interesting. I like that. Did you practice that on your way over?

Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things. Tana Monsu. Camilla Marone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. I'm Kate Winkler Dawson, host of the Wicked Words podcast. Each week I sit down with the true crime writers behind some of the most compelling true crime stories and discuss their years spent investigating and why it still matters.

He sees his father coming out of the woods with his hands over his face, and he knows something happened. His father just grabs him and says she's gone. She's gone. These are the cases that leave survivors, families, and the journalists who cover them changed forever. Working in national television, it'll push you to your limits, and you'll end up doing things you never thought you'd do. you know, you look back at it and you're like, I can't believe that really happened.

Join me and step inside the investigation. New episodes drop every Monday on the Exactly Right Network. Listen to Wicked Words on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Juice World's fingers moved slowly, deliberately. He typed his message with care. It didn't need to be poetic. It just needed to be sincere, much like his songwriting process. He closed his eyes and let his heart do the talking.

I'm leave that shit alone for good. Watch me, he typed. I'm done with it. I got work to do. A lot. And then he hit scent. The young rapper was kicking codeine once and for all. No one could lean with him anymore.

No more problem-solving with styrofoam. He'd have to pour out the last of his dirty sprite, as Future liked to call it. He was doing it less for his own sake and more for his girlfriends. Alexia surely would be thrilled, except he had a new boo now by the name of Ali Lottie. She wasn't a huge fan of his codeine habit either. The idea of losing her scared juice world just as much as Ali feared losing him to a tall cup of lean. The relationship felt different. It felt adult solid.

It made all his past breakup tracks feel like mere teenage tantrums. And he wasn't about to soil this more mature relationship by doing something as immature as sipping to serve. To hold himself accountable, he made a public statement about it, the most public kind of statement possible in 2019, a tweet. He ended his message with a glimmer of hope for his fans, but maybe he wrote it out for himself, too. Addiction kills all, but you can overcome. He watched his vow collect thousands of likes. Future had quit clean, so he could too, right? He could do anything the future could do. Earlier that year, Juice World had jetted across Europe to perform in arenas with Nikki Minaj, replacing Future's slot as the opening act. He played shows literally meant

for Future. Their album together, which they decided to call World on Drugs, had debuted at number two on the Billboard 200, and how that was only behind Lady Gaga. The collaborative album primed him for the next era of his career. Although these so-called eras seem to pass faster than his birthdays. He didn't even have a year in between his two full-length albums. Death Race for Love, his second record, had dropped only 10 months after his first. It was practically unheard-up to pump out full-length albums that quickly. Then again, signing a 19-year-old SoundCloud rapper with only one performance under his belt for three million clams had seemed unheard of too. That's what Juice World did, the unheard of. The truth was, he didn't need the standard two years. He didn't need the standard two years.

to write another record. With the exception of one song, he had Death Race for Love buttoned up in 72 hours. In the span of three days, he churned out more than 20 songs. To save time, he slept in the studio in between sessions.

The studio staff had never seen anything like it. This kid barely needed a pen and a pad. He wrote out loud, stream of consciousness style, and then hit record. Juice World didn't know why everyone was so surprised. He'd been running his raps like this, this for well over a decade since he was four or five years old.

It felt like his viral one-hour freestyle from 2018 all over again. Everyone's standing a gog over something that felt so simple that hadn't even felt like a challenge. At 19 years old, Juice World had already encountered one of Fame's darkest realities. It's lonely when no one else is at your level. Worse, it's embarrassing. Someone asked for a photo with him while he was at the urinal the other day. actually asked for a selfie while Juice World had his dick in his hand.

Juice World loved his fans, but this kind of adoration just made him cringe. The sensation of being on display was unsettling. He was already putting out more than any other rapper in the game right now, both emotionally and in terms of frequency. Wasn't that enough? Did they really have to follow him into bathrooms, or take photos of him in Ali sleeping on planes just for a few likes on Twitter? At least there were still pills, he thought.

He was only closing the door on Cody. The Percocets could still placate him. He closed his eyes and repeated his own mantra from goodbye and good riddance. Hold on. I'm gonna be fine. November 18th, 2019, LAX. Juice World's nerves tingled as a police canine rubbed its wet nose up and down his gene pockets. He stood in the stuffy terminal, fists clenched, as he watched his debunked. as he watched his departure fall more and more behind schedule.

First, there was one dog. Then more blue coats arrived with more canines, all tugging on their leashes, hungry to unearth something on Juice World's private jet. But this wasn't just the TSA. The men currently boarding the private jet instead of Juice World's entourage were customs agents. Those guys would book you over foreign plants,

let alone illegal drugs. Juice World should have been in the air by now. soaring over the Pacific Ocean towards Australia. He had a set booked for Spilt Milk Festival in Canberra, along with a headline show in West Melbourne. Of course, he had packed accordingly to keep him comfortable for the long flight. The dogs seemed to know it, and they were sure taking their sweet-ass time in there. Juice World's body called out for a percassette,

the same percassette that he was currently trying to keep hidden from authorities. He tried to keep cool, maintain an apathetic demeanor, Instead, he looked eerily vacant, checked out behind those moody brown eyes. The mentally, juice world was planted in another place in time, stuck in a similar situation from only one year prior that felt eerily familiar. And he already knew how that story ended. Back in 2018, TSA pulled him aside at LaGuardia Airport because they spotted quote-unquote organic materials in the X-ray machine when his suitcase passed through the same.

security checkpoint. The agents ripped through his luggage until they pulled out some pot and a few bottles of codeine. Didn't TSA only pull you aside if you had something that could make a plan go boom? They weren't supposed to be the drug police, were they? Maybe that's why they called the real police who happily escorted Juice World to the nearest station in handcuffs. It was 2018 and were people really still getting arrested for something as insignificant as weed? The voice of the customs agent ripped Juice World from his flashback. You cleared aboard. Juice World stepped into the jet, surprised, with his entourage, found the nearest seat, and slowly sank

into the plush leather. He pulled out a percocet from his carry-on and swallowed it before he could even fasten his seatbelt. He wouldn't be able to enjoy them much longer. After quitting codeine, his prescription pill habit seemed to immediately spiral out of control. Ali saw it. His mom sought from afar too. She could get over her son performing the same rap music that was once forbidden in her house,

as she could even get over him making a career out of it. But she couldn't get over the idea, understandably, of losing him forever. Time to end this death race. Juice World had agreed to enter rehab to kick his other drug habit. He'd swallow his pride and his final few pills later this year. The facility his loved ones had selected didn't, have any openings until December. But the empty bed would come too late. Juice World's next performances overseas would be his last. Juice World was awake, but barely. He blinked through

bleary eyes but could see only shapes, vague figures looming over him as the artificial light of the airport hallways pierced his vision. It took two doses of Narcan to stabilize him. The first dose did Nothing. Like stabbing a rag doll in the leg. The second dose brought him to his current state of semi-consciousness, just awake enough to glance up at the sterile white walls of the airport. Two stabs of Narcan for a handful of pills. Which pills no one knew? One of the federal agents asked Juice World what he took.

No response. The agent asked again. Juice World murmured under his breath, a few bars, a few final breaths. it was incoherent. By the time they got him to the Advocate Christ Medical Center, they still didn't know what Juice World had taken. Worse, his friends and his family never got a why. Why he tossed pills in his mouth that morning in a rush upon landing.

Was he trying to hide them from the authorities? That was always a possibility. But the 70 pounds of pot found within his luggage suggested that he would be busted regardless. Yes, you heard that right. Juiced World was holding 70-70 pounds of grass. That's a shit ton of wheat. What did he need 70 pounds for? Was it even his?

The bags that it was hidden in had no name tags. People like the author and convicted drug trafficker Freeway Rick Ross weren't entirely surprised with the epic stash. Ross later told news site Vlad TV that many emerging hip-hop stars were not as wealthy as their labels made them out to be, and thus it wasn't uncommon for rappers to sling dope on the side to snag a few extra stacks. But no one will ever know for certain.

Medical personnel lifted Juice World onto a gurney and wheeled him towards safety as he tussled through a nightmare. He floated between visions of private planes and marathon studio sessions, between the terror of the TSA and the promise of a life without any more prescription pills, without any percassette. He was so close. if he could just make it a little longer. It wasn't supposed to end like this if he could just pull through this high one more time.

And then... He saw nothing. Juice World left the Midway Airport on a stretcher. And then, he left the medical center a few hours later, in a body bag. Two members of Juice World's security team left the airport in better condition, albeit in handcuffs. They were both hit with charges for the firearm. found hidden away in the luggage on board.

Christopher Long, 36, charged with a misdemeanor count of carrying and possessing a firearm in the first degree. Henry Dean, 27, charged with one count of carrying a concealed firearm in an airport and a second count of sale and or possession of a high-capacity magazine and metal-cursing bullets. The drugs, of course, went home with the police. There would be no birthday celebration. Not in Chicago, and not in any of the country's hip-hop community. who mourned Juice World on social media.

He had completed a trifecta of fallen SoundCloud rappers, each barely aged past 20. A trifecta, he had no interest in joining but was now a part of nonetheless. Lil Pete, XXXTentacion, and now, Juice World. In California, record executives at Interscope stared down some 2,000 unfinished songs that Juice World had left behind, each equally fit to appear on the next record.

Two thousand songs. Juice World's crew spent the next six months pairing it down to only 22 songs for his third full length. They called it Legends Never Die, an awkwardly ironic opposition to Juice World's lyrics from too soon. The record debuted at the top of the Billboard 200 when it dropped in July of 2020, logging nearly half a million album equivalent units in its first week. Of that, more than 200,000 units accounted for pure sales, a true feat in the late 2010s,

when streaming dominated all other forms of musical consumption. In January 2020, a toxicology report would confirm that juice world overdosed on a fatal combination of oxycodone and codeine. The same codeine juice world had vehemently sworn off just months earlier. But there was a second promise still intact. When he died, Juice World was still on track to enter a rehabilitation center. The opening was only two weeks away.

Two weeks too late. With his third album, Interscote made a prediction. Legends never die, but they were wrong. Legends do die. It's the lessons that live forever. And that, somewhat. of a disgrace. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is Disgraceland. Disgraceland was created by yours truly and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis.

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Visit disgracelampod.com slash membership for details. Rate and review the show and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, and Facebook at DisgracelandPod. And on YouTube at YouTube.com slash at DisgracelandPod. Rockerola. When a group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist, they take matters into their own hands. I vowed, I will be his last target. He is not going to get away with this.

He's going to get what he deserves. We always say that, trust your girlfriends. Listen to the girlfriends. Trust me, babe, on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea with me. Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When like young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever.

And my first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in. Do that. David O'Yello. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Dennis Leary, Gaten Moderato from Stranger Things. Tana M'Ju, Camilla Morone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more.

Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Movies can make you feel, make you dream. Sometimes they even make you appreciate architecture. Is there anybody who's been hotter in a doorway than Elizabeth Taylor? That's the kind of analysis you'll find every week

on Dear Movies I Love You. podcast from the exactly right network. Every Tuesday, we break down the films we're crushing on, from blockbusters to deep cuts. Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.